Rendezvous in F Major
by Avelynn Tame
Summary: [One-shot] How many couples can say that they owe their relationship to a chocolate bar? BHr


**Title: **Rendezvous in F Major

**Author: **Avelynn Tame

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** How many couples can say that they owe their relationship to a chocolate bar? B/Hr  
**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Flake chocolate belongs to Cadbury.  
**Author notes:** Inspired by a topic of conversation on the **S.S. Cursed Genius**, and developed because it just wouldn't stop bugging me. The 'F' in the title stands for Flake. But you probably knew that.

* * *

As a curse-breaker, Bill Weasley was very good at being able to block out distractions and concentrate solely on one thing. This often meant that he could work and sleep in noisy environments. But there were certain things that, if they persisted long enough, would break through his carefully constructed mind-wall. In this case, it was Hermione Granger's small foot tapping out a fast rhythm on the floor. He could cope with her wringing her hands, or biting her lip, but the foot tapping had to stop.

"Hermione," he said softly.

She appeared not to hear him, and stared down the corridor at where the action was.

"Hermione," he tried again. "Come back to us, Hermione."

Abruptly the foot tapping stopped, and the brown-haired girl turned to look at him. "Is something wrong?"

"It..." What was the point? Besides, he'd heard about Hermione Granger's legendary slaps. "Nothing. Want to come and get something to eat with me? You must be famished."

She looked utterly scandalised. "But... what if she has the baby and we're not here?"

Bill sighed. "Hermione, she's only three centimetres dilated, so unless it's a very small baby... Anyway, the world would not crumble if you didn't see the baby - or her - within minutes of its birth. Come on."

But she remained in her seat. "I had dibs on first hold," she said stubbornly.

"Three centimetres, Hermione," he reminded her, marvelling slightly at the idea of Hermione Granger saying the word 'dibs'. Before she could protest, he had hauled her up from the seat and was dragging her toward the vending machines.

She bought herself a coffee and sipped it gingerly while he perused the chocolate. Eventually he decided on a Flake - an old favourite of his, even if it was a bit fiddly. "Aren't you getting any food?" he asked Hermione, who simply shook her head and carried on drinking the coffee.

It was only when they had returned to their seats and he was unwrapping the chocolate that he noticed her eyeing it enviously. He briefly entertained the idea of eating it very slowly and savouring every bite just to annoy her, but his soft side beat his evil side into submission. "Want half?" he asked, waving it at her.

"No, thanks," she replied, although it was obvious that her brain was screaming 'Gimme gimme gimme!'

He broke it in half and offered a piece to her. "Oh, I couldn't..." she began, but her resolve failed her, and she took the chocolate anyway. "Thanks," she said gratefully.

Eight hours and three more shared Flakes later, Ginny and Harry's first baby was born.

* * *

**Two months later**

She shrank back, away from the raucous group of drinkers. Parties had never been her thing, and it had definitely been a mistake to come to this one, but then she _had_ promised...

"Ladies and gents, the karaoke machine is now available for use!" some random extrovert announced over a microphone. "Who'll be our first superstar?"

She pressed herself desperately against the wall and clutched her drink. "I will not sing, I will not sing," she intoned under her breath. She began to look for a possible escape route.

"Hermione? Is that you?"

She whirled round and prepared to throw her glass at whoever had spoken in case they had come to drag her to the karaoke machine. But she relaxed when she saw who it was. "Bill. Thank God."

His eyebrows shot up. "Wow. I don't think I've ever elicited _that_ response from anyone before. Let alone a woman." He grinned. "Usually I have to get them drunk first."

She socked him in the arm and sipped her punch. "I thought maybe I was going to be forced into doing... _that_." She shuddered and gestured at the miniature stage where someone was crooning a slightly off-key version of 'Karma Chameleon'.

Bill nodded in understanding. "Come with me."

She looked up at him hopefully. "Escape?"

"You bet."

They weaved their way through the crowds, dodging obstacles deftly and eventually reaching a well-hidden back door. "Ladies first," said Bill, holding it open and bowing as she went through.

The cool night air outside was a relief to her hot face. "Thanks," she muttered. "I should never have been in there in the first place. So how do you know the host?"

"Pete?" Bill shrugged. "A friend of a friend. I only came because I was promised free food."

She snorted. "_I'm_ here because my so-called friend promised to introduce me to a, quote, 'really great guy'. Turns out he's a chauvinistic prick."

Bill, who had been rummaging in his pockets, finally pulled something out and cried, "Aha!" triumphantly.

It was a Flake.

"I've taken to carrying these around with me," he confessed. "I think I'm addicted." He opened it up and was just about to take a bite when he noticed a familiar envious look on her face. He changed tack. "Mmm," he moaned, sniffing it. "Wow, this smells wonderful, don't you think? Can't wait to eat it."

"Oh, just shove it down your gizzard, why don't you?" Hermione growled.

"Would you like some, my dear?" he asked sweetly.

She sniffed in reply.

"Oh, well... suppose I'll just have to eat it all by myself, then," he said, and raised it to his lips.

A swift kick was delivered to his shin, and in the confusion, Hermione grabbed his Flake and ate half of it.

"You little witch," he muttered, reclaiming the other half as soon as he'd determined that no bones were broken.

She just grinned.

* * *

"Broken?" she exclaimed. "It's a fireplace, how can it be broken?"

The official just shrugged.

"Well, do you have any idea how long it will take to fix?"

He shrugged again. "Could be a few hours. Better grab a coffee."

She growled in frustration as he wandered off. She was expected at Hogwarts in less than twenty minutes, and they wanted her to wait hours? "Bugger," she muttered, and sat down on her suitcase. She doubted that Neville - AKA Professor Longbottom - would be very angry if she were late, but she was such a stickler for punctuality...

"Hermione?"

She turned round to find Bill Weasley grinning down at her. "Hi, Bill."

"Long time no see, eh? What are you doing here?" He sat down next to her, on his own suitcase.

She sighed. "Going insane. How about you?"

"Waiting for them to fix this Floo thing. Like you, I suppose. Where are you headed?"

"Hogwarts. Seeing an old friend. You?"

"Home. I've been summoned by mum. Can't wait 'til she sees my latest earring."

Hermione leaned back to inspect it. It appeared to be a tiny pair of metallic breasts. "Um... tasteful," she muttered, fighting a blush.

"Rather," he agreed, sounding highly amused. Then, from nowhere, he produced a slightly crumpled Flake. "Split it?" he asked, but this time he didn't even wait for her response before he broke it in two and gave her half.

"Thanks," she said, and took a big bite.

* * *

He checked his watch again for the umpteenth time. He was perched on the edge of the fountain in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, feeling more than a little harassed. "Bloody red tape," he muttered.

The lift to his right pinged; the doors opened and a stream of people flowed out. One woman called out, "See you next week!" and began to make her way to the exit.

_I know that voice,_ he thought, and stood up, feeling around in his pockets for something. "Hermione!" he yelled.

She whirled round, her eyes darting from person to person, searching for whoever had been trying to catch her attention. Then she saw Bill, waving at her from beside the fountain. She walked over to him, her heels clicking on the marble floor. "Hi, Bill."

"Hi," he returned, and without further ado, gave her half a Flake.

She grinned. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." He patted a space on the fountain edge. "Plenty of room."

"What brings you here?" she asked.

"Oh, I've got to sort out some documentation in order to bring this ancient artefact over from Egypt..."

* * *

"Hey! Hey hey hey!"

The bus slowed down again to let her get on. "Thanks," she mumbled, throwing some money at the driver and patting her rain-soaked hair. "Dammit," she cursed when she realised that there were no seats.

_Strap-hanging for you, girl_, she thought, and grabbed the first strap she saw.

She'd been staring out of the windows at the gloomy grey landscape zipping past when something yummy-smelling was wafted under her nose. She looked down.

It was half a Flake.

"Do you actually work in Egypt, or is that just a lie to get women to go out with you?" she asked the man standing next to her.

"Of course I work in Egypt. I just... spend a lot of time here, too."

"Hmm. A likely story."

* * *

"'Scuse me for a moment," said Bill, and he stood up from the restaurant table. He had the distinct impression that his dinner companions neither noticed nor cared that he was going anywhere.

As soon as he was out of sight (and earshot), he groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Migraine?" asked a concerned, familiar voice.

Hermione Granger materialised in front of him. "No," he replied. "Just one of those headaches brought on by being around too many boring colleagues."

"Ah," she said sympathetically. "You poor thing. I'm here with friends."

"Lucky you," he remarked.

She folded her arms and considered him for a moment. He took the chance to admire the way the little black dress she was wearing clong to her curves. "Ahem... Bill?"

His head snapped up, and he fought a blush. "What?"

"I was going to say, you could join us, if you want? That's..." her voice was tinged with amusement, "...if you're not too busy."

He smirked. "Well, I wouldn't mind. Let me just make my excuses, and I'll be right over."

And he was. He couldn't get there fast enough. He charmed Hermione's friends, he pinched bits of her food, and when dessert arrived... he noticed something.

"Hermione... what is this in my ice-cream?"

She took one look and almost cracked up.

He broke the Flake in half and handed part to her while her friends looked on in consternation.

* * *

"Ow! That was my foot, idiot!"

Hermione was not generally prone to name-calling, but she'd been trampled on consistently for the last three hours. And in Flourish and Blotts, of all sacred places.

Two strong hands landed firmly on her shoulders, and she jumped. Bill's voice said, "You seem tense."

She gave a half-laugh, half-sob, and replied, "You don't know the half of it." She heard the rustling of a plastic wrapper and half a Flake appeared under her nose. "Bill, I think you should marry me, or something."

He chuckled. "You only want me for my Flakes."

"Well, yes," she said, turning around, "is that going to be a problem?"

"I think we need to get you out of this shop."

"Oh, but..." she looked wistfully at the books on sale - and then at the mile-long queues. "You're right. Let's go."

* * *

He was deliberately lurking by the fireplace. Everyone else was there; they were just waiting for her. "The suspense is killing me," Ron had complained. "Can't you just tell us what this big announcement is so that I can sleep in peace tonight?"

They'd been summoned to the Burrow for a 'big announcement' from Harry and Ginny. Hermione was supposed to be here, except she wasn't, and quite frankly Bill wasn't sure if he should feel worried or not.

Then there was a distant rumbling sound, a burst of green fire, and a slightly dishevelled Hermione stepped out onto the hearth rug. "Sorry I'm late," she gasped. "Lost track of the time. Are we waiting for anyone else?"

"No," Harry started to say, but he, like everyone else, was distracted by the startling sight of Bill giving half a chocolate bar to Hermione.

"Oh, _no_," Ron groaned. "Don't tell me you're got a 'big announcement' to make as well."

* * *

"You're mad about her, aren't you?"

Bill turned round to see Charlie standing in the kitchen doorway, smirking. "Don't be silly," he said.

"Oh, come on," Charlie cajoled him. "This chocolate bar thing, it's a dead giveaway."

Bill placed a hand on his heart and gave a fake gasp. "Oh my God, Charlie, you're right. All this time I thought it was a chocolate bar when really it was my way of saying, 'Hermione, I'm madly in love with you, and I want to ravish you right here, right now.'"

Charlie shrugged. "You said it, not me."

"You don't honestly think that one little habit is a sign that I've got a thing for her, do you?"

"I don't know what to think, Bill. But I think you should at least give yourself the benefit of the doubt."

* * *

"Three babies in there, and you're so _flat_!"

Ginny laughed. "I'm only a month along. I'll be like an elephant before long, just you wait and see." She turned serious. "Hermione... what's going on with you and my brother?"

Hermione stared resolutely at Ginny's stomach. "Which brother?"

"You _know_ which brother."

She sighed. "I don't kn- nothing. Me and Bill are... friends, that's all. If that."

"I think everyone in this room knows there's more to it than that."

Hermione shook her head. "Of course there isn't. I mean, Bill and I aren't even compatible. We're so unalike!"

Ginny winked mischievously. "Sometimes the most perfect couples have more differences than similarities."

"Ginny, if that was true, my perfect partner would be Draco Malfoy."

"Well, I hear he's still available..."

"Oh, shut up. Besides, I... I'm not interested."

"In Draco Malfoy or Bill?"

"Either!"

Ginny looked supremely unconvinced.

* * *

When most people had gone, Ginny cornered Bill. "If you don't ask Hermione out, I'm going to set her up with Draco Malfoy."

Bill gaped at her. "What? Why? And... Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny nodded. "He's available, you know. And they're compatible."

"No, they're not!" he exclaimed. "Besides, it's... well, it's none of our business, is it? What she does with her love life."

"It is if you've got an interest."

"Ah, but I don't."

"You _do_, Bill Weasley," Ginny hissed. "So here's your deadline - if you haven't done the deed by the end of the month, I will personally see to it that you never get another chance to."

Bill gasped. "You're evil!"

"No, Bill. If I were evil I wouldn't even be giving you this one last chance." She pointed to the clock. "Tick tock. You don't have forever."

* * *

**One week later**

It was dark. Hermione hated arriving home in the dark. She unlocked the door, pushed it open, and fumbled for the light switch. Except that another light flickered into life before she could switch on the main one.

Across the room, her dining table was illuminated by two candles, and sitting at it, to her immense surprise, was Bill Weasley.

"Bill!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Floo," he replied. "You should really put some security measures in there, you know. Anyone could get in."

"Even vagabonds like yourself," she giggled. "So what brings you to my humble abode? And where, by the way, is my half-Flake?"

A strange expression passed across his face. "Come and sit down."

_Oh dear._ Alarm bells began to ring in her head. She crossed the room slowly and sat down opposite him. "Is something wrong?"

He didn't reply; just produced two Flakes from his pocket and pushed them to a spot directly between them.

She laughed softly. "Oh. Did you finally get tired of me pinching half of yours?"

"Not at all," he said solemnly. "I just thought that maybe... you might like your own from now on, that's all. Or, you know, maybe you want to... to carry on sharing with me. It all depends on which you prefer." There was an odd look in his eyes, as if the fate of the world rested on her answer and he wasn't sure that she understood the question.

"Bill," she said carefully, "would you please stop speaking in tongues?"

He sighed, and leaned forward. "What I'm asking, Hermione, is... would you like to go out with me? On a date?"

Her face split into a smile as wide as the world. "God, Bill, you didn't need a Flake analogy to ask me that! Of course I'd like to go on a date with you." She frowned. "Actually... I can't help wondering if we're beyond dating. All those occasions with the Flakes... I believe I proposed to you not so long ago."

"Oh, yes," he grinned. "So does that mean I get to just leap straight to kissing you senseless, then?"

"Please do."


End file.
